


Not Dying Today

by sharkgloves



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Post-Movie, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkgloves/pseuds/sharkgloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Face and Murdock are captured during a job and forced to perform for their captor's amusement. Now Face has to get both of them through this without revealing feelings for Murdock that he's kept hidden for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Dying Today

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains dub-con and explicit discussion of non-con.

It wasn't that Hannibal's plans were terrible, per se. It wasn't even that they didn't work, because they _did_ work, even when they really didn't deserve to. It was just that there was always that step between the plan's beginning and the triumphant denouement where things tended to go ever so slightly to Hell in a handbasket.

Today seemed to be one of those days.

Things had seemed so simple this morning when Hannibal was laying out the second phase of his latest master plan. Sometimes, Face wondered if that wasn't Hannibal's great talent: not the plans themselves, but presenting them in such a way that it didn't occur to the three of them to ask if he'd been huffing paint fumes until they were hanging over the side of a twelve storey building with a string of Christmas lights between their teeth and struggling to remember precisely what this had to do with shutting down a protection racket.

Their current job hadn't achieved those heights of lunacy just yet, but Hannibal had that gleam in his eye that always made Face wonder how he had managed to avoid a psychiatric hearing of his own for all those years in the Military. It was just a matter of time before there was an icecream truck or mime outfits, Face could tell.

Their client for this job was a local church group wanting to prevent their community centre from being torn down and converted into luxury apartments by a sleazeball called Brock Harding. Face had yet to meet a Brock that didn't turn out to be a complete prick and it didn't seem like Harding would be the one to break that streak. The job was worth taking if only to teach the guy that it wasn't nice to intimidate little old church ladies and kids with nowhere else to go. Which was fortunate, because one look at the church group's collection of ten dollar haircuts and polyester day wear was enough to tell Face that they wouldn't be getting their usual fee.

The plan so far had been simple: they'd made initial contact with the enemy and made their position known. Which in this case, as in so many others, really meant just showing up and baiting them for a while before tearing off in the van. It wasn't sophisticated but it was about the most fun you could have with your clothes on. Face wasn't going to forget Harding's expression when BA popped out of his Birthday cake with a machine gun any time soon.

So the poking-the-tiger-with-a-very-sharp-stick portion of the plan had gone off without a hitch and now they were into phase two. Hannibal and BA had gone to meet with Harding and his investors, supposedly to discuss terms, but really just to provide a distraction while Face and Murdock broke into Harding's warehouse and stole a couple of his trucks. What Hannibal wanted with these trucks wasn't yet apparent, but Face was willing to bet that it would involve the twenty gallons of red paint and crate of firecrackers they had stolen last night.

The only problem with phase two so far was that Face and Murdock had separated at the warehouse to collect their respective trucks and Face hadn't seen Murdock since.

Face had waited at the rendezvous until he was absolutely certain that Murdock wasn't coming before he headed back to the warehouse. He hoped that Murdock hadn't gotten himself caught but, flaky as he could sometimes be, Murdock was never late, which meant that something had gone wrong. Face had decided to scout out the situation first and not bother Hannibal unless it was something he couldn't handle. More than likely he'd meet up with Murdock and whatever shiny thing that had distracted him, or he'd take out a couple of goons and rescue him without needing to call for back up. These were civilians they were dealing with after all.

Face rolled his shoulders slightly and was rewarded with his arms being gripped tighter by the clearly ex-military couple of goons that were flanking him. Yep, today was definitely shaping up to be one of those days.

He was steered to a large office at the back of the warehouse. A purely functional box of a room, all cheap wood and laminate surfaces. Tacky calender, a plastic-looking fish mounted on the wall, and an honest-to-God collection of Disney Bobbleheads on the desk. _Why, Lord, why_? Face felt dirty even being in a room with this much flat-pack furniture.

The room also contained Harding himself, wearing a stupid grin and a poorly-cut suit. Murdock was beside him, gagged and tied to a chair. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his baseball cap and his jacket.

Murdock lit up when he saw Face – a purely reflex action because it had to be pretty obvious that this wasn't exactly a textbook example of a rescue. Murdock had a fresh bruise coming up on his cheek and looked slightly more dishevelled than usual but he appeared otherwise unhurt at first glance. Face rarely trusted first glances, knew how easy they were to fool, and under closer inspection he could see how rapidly Murdock was breathing and how wild his eyes were.

“Hey, Murdock.” Face nodded at him, getting a brief crinkling of the skin around Murdock's eyes and a muffled greeting in return. “Hey, guys, how's everyone feeling?”

“Better and better.” Harding placed a hand on the back of Murdock's neck and held on even as Murdock almost tipped the chair over trying to shake him off. “Matter of fact, I was just about to get my dick sucked.”

“Really?” Face kept his expression mild, didn't react to the angry noise Murdock made. “Well, I'd hate to interrupt that. Kinda difficult through a gag I'd have thought, but I'm sure you know what you're doing.”

“Yeah,” Harding sounded far more pleased with himself than a man wearing a Donald Duck necktie had any right to be. “Your boy here just doesn't shut up, does he? Well, you know. You must have been tempted to just gag him a time or two yourself, huh? Am I right?”

Face shrugged. “If you say so. I think the whole bondage thing is probably more your deal than mine, but you know. Whatever, man. I'm not here to judge. So, tell me, from one guy to another, do you just like to tie people up or do you like being tied up yourself too? Because I've just never understood what a guy gets out of that...”

As he spoke, Face ran his eyes over Murdock: noting how on edge he was, how rumpled. Murdock was crazy and he hated being restrained, but he was absolutely steady when he needed to be and it took a Hell of a lot to really rattle him. It had been over an hour since they had first split up to collect their respective trucks. Anything could have happened in that time.

Murdock was staring at the floor and he looked mad as Hell, which for him meant that he was getting close to freaking out and was trying to keep a lid on it. His eyes were tracking something on the floor that Face couldn't see and his breathing was laboured, as if the hand on the back of his neck was squeezing the air from his lungs. This was not good.

Harding followed Face's line of sight and laughed. “Oh, settle down. We barely touched him. I'm kind of glad we held off now as a matter of fact.”

The tone of his voice made Face glance back at Harding. Harding was idly stroking the hair at the nape of Murdock's neck and giving Face a look that Face had been seeing from a certain type of man ever since he turned twelve. Or at least he'd been twelve when he learned what it meant, and older again when he learned that it could be something he could use instead of just something that was done to him. It was a look that hadn't had the power to intimidate him in many years so Face just tipped his chin up and schooled his face to boredom. Go ahead and look, fucker, it doesn't mean anything to me.

“I bet you can suck dick real good can't you, handsome?” Harding said slowly.

Face couldn't help but laugh. Who even _said_ shit like that? How was he supposed to take a guy seriously when he had a fish on his wall, a duck on his tie and was talking like he was in a low budget porno?

It seemed like Harding actually wanted an answer though so he shrugged and said, “I've never had any complaints.”

“I bet.” Harding smirked. “How about fucking? You a good fuck too?”

Oh God, Face was now certain that this really _was_ dialogue from a porno. It sounded vaguely familiar, which was disturbing on a number of levels. He knew his lines anyway, he'd had plenty of practise. “It'd be a crying shame if something that looked this good was all talk no action, wouldn't it?”

That startled a snort out of the guy on Face's left. He scowled and tightened his grip on Face's arm until it was painful and Face just grinned wider.

“Ain't that that truth,” Harding said. “Okay then. Prove it.”

Face didn't blink, didn't change expression. Don't play gay chicken with me, motherfucker, because I will _bury_ you. “Sure! Take your pants off and I'll hop on, give you the ride of your life. Make you think you've gone to Disneyland.”

“No no, not me. Him.” Harding nodded at Murdock and squeezed the back of his neck for emphasis. Murdock snarled and twitched his shoulders out but didn't raise his head.

Face went cold. “Excuse me, what?”

“You heard me, cupcake. You're such hot shit I want you to fuck your friend for us. Give us a demonstration. He's a bit on the scruffy side but cute enough, huh? I bet the two of you would look great together.”

It took Face's brain a second to process the fact that he'd just been called _cupcake_ , but he was soon back in the game. “Yeahhhh, I don't think so. Not about the looking great together, because there you're right. We would be King and Queen of any Prom anywhere, the only trouble would be over who got to wear the tiara. But the whole... _fucking_ business. Yeah, it's like they always say – never make lovers out of your friends or friends out of your lovers. It doesn't tend to end well.”

“Boy, you sure do like the sound of your own voice don't you?” Harding said. “You might want to reconsider though.”

Face grinned at him, kept just enough teeth out of it for it to seem amiable rather than the smile of someone who was thinking about stabbing you in the eye. “Do you guys not get Skinemax out here? Is that it? I mean, I've gotta say I admire your initiative, but I don't think making your own porn is really the way to go. You should get onto your cable provider about hooking you up with some of that pay-per-view action, you wouldn't believe some of the stuff they've got on there.”

“Are you going to fuck him or not?”

Face hesitated, wondering how best to play this. “What if I don't?”

Harding shrugged. “If that's your decision.” He took a gun out from his jacket and casually put it to Murdock's head.

Face felt panic ignite in him and thrashed against the grip on his arms, his only thought to get something between that gun and Murdock, even if there was nothing he could use but his own body. “Whoa! Hey now! Come on, you don't have to do that!”

Harding looked at Face without interest. “Yes?”

Murdock's eyes had closed at the touch of the gun against his temple. His lips were moving but if he was saying anything it was too quiet to hear. Murdock wasn't religious but Face knew a prayer when he saw one.

“No, I'm just saying.” Face swallowed, desperately searching for the words to gain control over this situation. He knew they were there, but for the first time in his life he couldn't find them. “You don't have to do that, okay? We're sorry for crashing your birthday party, that was not cool of us. I think that all of us just got off on the wrong foot, is all. I'm sure you're-”

“Boy, I bet you think you can just keep me here talking all day, huh?” Harding shook his head slowly, his voice full of loathing. Funny how that always seemed to be the underlying current to the look he'd given Face. “Just listening to you and agreeing with you and doing whatever you want, right? That's how things go for you, isn't it? Fucking pretty boys like you make me sick, always thinking the world owes you something.”

 _Shit shit shit_. “I was just trying to-”

“I know what you were _just trying to_ and it's not going to work on me. Let me make this simple enough so you can understand.”

Harding took the gun's safety off and moved it so it was pointing down at the top of Murdock's head. “You fuck your little friend here. In the ass. Right now. Or I'll shoot him in the head. That's it – no discussions, no arguing, no talking your way out of it. The next words out of your mouth aren't yes or no I'm going to pull this trigger. Yes or no.”

The gun barrel was barely three inches from Murdock's skull. Face knew exactly how far a bullet of that calibre at that range would travel through a body, through Murdock's body. What it would hit: what it would destroy. He stared at Murdock, at his bowed head and his fragile skull cradling everything that made him who he was. He heard himself say “Yes” without being conscious of making a decision.

Murdock opened his eyes and stared straight at Face as if he'd never met him before.

Harding laughed and ran his fingers through Murdock's hair. Murdock seemed to barely notice. “Oh good. I was hoping you'd say that.”

Face braced himself. In order for this to work they would have to untie Murdock and with both of them free they could get the drop on these guys. It was just a matter of waiting for the opportunity and not hesitating. Murdock was acting kind of shocky, but Face knew he could count on him. Just wait for the right moment.

There wasn't a right moment.

They made Face stand in the corner furthest from the door, facing the wall with his hands on his head. One of the goons held a gun on Face while Harding and goon number two untied Murdock, putting their hands all over him entirely more than was necessary, judging from his muffled protests, and then they shoved him in Face's direction and got the Hell out of range. Harding settled in the chair Murdock had been sitting in and the goons stood either side, guns in hands.

The slick way they did the whole thing made Face wonder exactly how many times this scenario had played out.

Murdock stumbled when they pushed him and Face had to catch him. Murdock was solid and alive under Face's hands – the skin of his arm warm, his heart knocking against his ribs, and Face just wanted to hang onto him for a while but this latest indignity seemed to have pulled Murdock back from wherever he had gone. He was mad as Hell again and couldn't stay still.

Under Murdock's gag his lip was split and the corners of his mouth rubbed red raw, looking more painful because of the snarl pulling at his lips. He shook Face off and rounded on Harding.

“Hey, way to overreact, you fucking psycho!” Murdock taunted in a singsong voice, shifting from foot to foot like he couldn't make up his mind how best to launch an attack. “You like to tie up and molest everyone who crashes your Birthday party and doesn't bring a gift? What do you do if someone forgets to send you a Christmas card – fuck them with a cactus? You got problems, man.”

Harding was still smirking and Face grabbed Murdock, wrestling him back before he could really get warmed up and say something that would get them shot. “Murdock, hey. Hey! Calm down, man.”

Murdock twitched under Face's hands but didn't try and throw them off. He was trying to stare past Face at Harding but Face blocked his view. “Hey, Murdock.”

Murdock finally looked at Face. “Hey there yourself, cowboy.”

Face couldn't help the laugh that escaped him at that. “You all right, buddy?”

“Oh, I'm peachy keen, tickety boo and whistling Dixie.” His teeth were streaked with blood. “Is this the rescue then?”

“Yeah, this is it. It's not going too well so far.”

“This is all very entertaining,” Harding raised his voice over them. “But get on with it.”

Face looked around them. “What, here?”

Harding and the other guys all laughed. This was clearly not the first time they'd been asked that question. “Sorry we don't have a honeymoon suite for you, princess. I think you can bend him over my desk just fine. That'll give us the best view.”

Face clenched his fists, wanting to put them through something. Behind him, Murdock laughed in a particularly disturbing way. “In front of Snow White?”

“You should have left the gag on.”

“You should have brushed your teeth after lunch.”

Face was going to start laughing hysterically in a moment and be unable to stop and then they will both be shot through the head.

Harding was clearly losing what little patience he'd had to begin with. “You might want to get control over your boy, handsome. If you can't handle it I can have Norm and Kent hold him down for you. Of course, they'll want a little something in return for the favour. A ride after you've gotten him juiced up maybe, or for you to show off those cocksucking skills you're so proud of. Get on with it.”

Face could practically feel the wave of horror that came off of Murdock at that. Face made himself turn around, turn his back on Harding and look at Murdock. Murdock was clearly two steps away from snapping but he looked expectantly at Face, waiting for Face to come up with the plan, confident that he would.

Face reached out for Murdock's pants.

Murdock hissed and slapped his hand away. “ _Face_.”

“ _Murdock_ ,” Face tried to keep his voice level but he was quickly losing control over his temper. It was either that or start crying. “Do you want them to hold you down? Or maybe you want to be shot through the head?”

Murdock licked his lips, glancing towards the door, clearly tempted to just make a run for it. “Well, you know, Face. I've been shot in the head before and I survived. That is a fact. So, you know. I reckon if I've done something once I could probably do it again. What's another bullet to my messed up head, huh?”

“What... are you _high_?” Face had to clench his hands into fists to stop from hitting Murdock. He couldn't remember ever being so angry with him. “You do remember the Kevlar part of that equation, don't you? And how it still gave you a concussion and hurt like Hell? This time there will be no concussion, no pain, just _bang_ : Murdock's brains all over the floor. Is that your plan?”

“At least I have a plan!”

They glared at each other until Harding cleared his throat loudly. “Norm, give handsome here a hand.”

“Hey!” Face snapped, twisting round to glare at their audience. “I said I'll do this and I'm doing it, okay? Just back the fuck off. And none of you get to lay one finger on him, okay? Or on me either. We're doing this, so just back off.”

Behind him he could hear Murdock's unsteady breathing. Harding's eyes flicked past Face and he looked satisfied at whatever he saw on Murdock's face. Face took a step to the side, blocking his view and Harding sat back in his chair.

“Get on with it then,” Harding said. “Come on. Get on with it. Give us a proper show now, boys.”

“Oh, you want a _show_ ,” Face said through his teeth. Okay, motherfucker, you asked for it.

Face locked eyes with Harding and slowly slid his jacket off, rolling his shoulders and moving like liquid seduction. His body was just another weapon in his arsenal, just another tool. It was a way of getting what he wanted and for that reason he kept it in as great a shape as all of his other weapons. Honed to perfection: ready to be used whenever the mission required it. This was just a mission, same as any other. This meant nothing.

His shirt went next, each button a tease, revealing his fucking amazing chest inch by perfect inch. Eat your fucking hearts out, assholes. Take a good look at this buff sculpted shit right here and remember it when it's kicking your ass in the not too distant future.

He draped his shirt and jacket over the desk's chair so they wouldn't get creased and then turned back towards Murdock. Murdock was staring at him as if wondering precisely when it was that Face had lost his mind. For a guy who was on the receiving end of that look a Hell of a lot, Murdock had it pretty much down. He twitched away when Face reached for him, but when Face persisted he allowed himself to be pulled in and turned so that his back was against Face's chest and Face's body was entirely between him and their audience.

Murdock was all angles and tense lines, drawn in on himself and breathing in irregular heavy bursts through his nose like the way animals do when cornered. He practically hummed with the effort of forcing himself to stillness and jolted when Face wrapped an arm across his chest, pulling him closer against his body.

They had hugged like this before, this was familiar. This whole situation was insane and so wrong that Face would go mad if he thought about it too much, but if Face can try and remind Murdock, remind himself, of the feelings they share for one another and the care behind every touch then perhaps they can get through this and still look each other in the eye afterwards. Assuming Harding doesn't just shoot them anyway.

This is just sex. Sex is easy, Face can do sex. It's sex with Murdock, which is admittedly new, but it's not like it's something Face hasn't thought about before. They can do this. Don't think about it, just do it.

Face nuzzled into the side of Murdock's neck and Murdock jumped about a foot in the air, making a startled sound low in his throat. The sound went straight to Face's dick and, unthinkingly, he nuzzled in again, wanting more of that sound. This time Murdock just flinched away from him, sounding freaked out. “Uh, Face?”

“Mmmhmm.” Face didn't let him go, couldn't let him go. He didn't know how much longer Harding would give them before he sent one of his goons over. He kept his arm locked tight across Murdock's chest and brought his other hand up to rub slow circles on Murdock's belly as he leaned in to whisper in his ear. “It's all part of the plan, Murdock. Okay? Just think of it like that. This is all a plan and I'm playing a part and you have to play a part too.”

Oh God, now _he_ was starting to talk like he was in a porno. It seemed inevitable in this situation.

Murdock either didn't notice or was to polite to mention it. “Whose plan – yours or Hannibal's?”

“Uh.” Face had a sudden image of Hannibal in dress blues ordering Face to fuck Murdock or face a court-martial. “My plan. Definitely my plan.”

“I don't like your plans,” Murdock said flatly.

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” He rested his lips against the jumping pulse in Murdock's neck and kept his voice low. “We don't have another option at the moment though.”

“Uh huh. So what _is_ your plan exactly? Because at the moment it mostly looks like you auditioning for gay porn and feeling me up.”

“Yeah, that's pretty much it.” It sounded so much worse when Murdock said it out loud. He really had to learn how Hannibal managed to make all his plans sound so good.

“Face!” Murdock hissed, trying to pull away but not hard enough to break Face's hold. “That's not a plan! That's just doing what they told us to!”

Which was a fair point, but Face was getting a bit sick of having holes shot in all his plans. “Look, until you come up with something better this is what we're stuck with. It's just sex, Murdock, okay? It's just bodies. They want to see us humiliated and turning on each other and that's not going to happen. Fuck those guys. This is you and me, right? We're better than that. We can do this.”

“So... we're going to... We're _going_ to?”

“Yeah.”

Murdock tried to pull away again, but Face kept him close and he didn't fight that hard, moving slowly like he was half asleep. He was trembling now, a fine tremor through his limbs, and his breathing sounded pained as he clearly did his best to get control over his panic.

Face rested his chin on Murdock's shoulder, hating that he had to say this next thing but without a choice in the matter. This was too important, could go too terribly wrong too quickly if he didn't at least know what to expect. “Do you think you'll be able to stay here with me during this?”

A tight inhale. “What do you mean?”

Face craned his neck until he could look Murdock in the eye. “I mean are you going to get... lost. Trapped. In a flashback or something.”

Murdock closed his eyes and Face could only see his face in quarter profile, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbone, the sweep of his eyelashes and the creases at the corner of his eye, but that was enough for Face to see what he was thinking. There was no way to unsay that now, no way that Murdock would be able to pretend to himself that the team didn't know, hadn't put it all together.

“ _Oh_ ,” he whispered, little broken sound that made Face's chest hurt. He kept his eyes closed as he clearly struggled for the right words. “I think... I think I'll be okay. You know. As long as... as long as I know it's you. As long as I know it's someone who, you know, cares about me. At all. I think I'll be okay if I can remember that.”

Face wrapped his arms across Murdock's chest and squeezed hard, as if he could sear his emotion through Murdock's skin and deep into his bones where he would be able to feel it. He pressed a kiss against Murdock's jaw and whispered in his ear. “Someone who _loves_ you, moron. You think there's anyone else in this world I care about more than you guys? What's that if it's not love?”

Murdock's chest hitched. Once, twice, then he nodded.

Face pressed another kiss to Murdock's jaw. Stalling for time, preparing himself for what came next. What came next was Face doing what Face did best. The two things he did best, actually: sex and a con. Throw in hitting a moving target from half a mile away and it would be a trifecta of ways in which Face was awesome.

But sex and a con. Yeah. Sex because that was what had to happen here, and a con because he had a very fine line to walk. He had to be present enough to keep Murdock grounded, but detached enough to keep from letting Murdock see that this was something Face had thought about, had wanted, for a very long time (but not like this, never like this). And at the same time, he could never forget the pack of raping fucks watching them from the sidelines and wanting a show.

If the universe was a fair place and Face hadn't found himself between Murdock's head and a bullet, he would never have laid a hand on Murdock, despite how much he wanted to. And he did want to, not just for the initial shallow reaction he'd had when Murdock first joined the team, although that didn't exactly hurt. Because, yes, Murdock was lean and handsome and had a disarming grin that made Face's chest hurt and all that shit but, more importantly, he was a puzzle and Face couldn't resist a puzzle.

Most people were pretty simple when it came down to it. Face had been reading people since he was a kid: he'd made it his business to work out what they wanted and what he could get them to do for him in exchange. It was how he moved through the world, from one easy mark to another.

The team was different though, and Murdock was the most different of all. Face knew a fellow con artist when he saw one, and for a long time he had tried to tease out the thread of the real Murdock running through all those contradicting layers of crazy and brilliance and disarming sweetness. He had been certain that if he just looked hard enough he'd be able to see where the con ended and the reality began, be able to see who Murdock was and what he wanted.

Almost ten years later, he was still no closer to working that out. All of it was true: all of it was a con. Somehow Murdock made it work.

He was broken though, at least as broken as Face, and he hadn't learned to grow calluses or close off parts of himself. Which meant he could still feel it. It could still hurt him. In the past, whenever Face had been made brave by drink or close proximity to death or whenever Murdock had looked at him with that certain quiet softness that could mean anything at all, Face would think of reaching out but would immediately be confronted with all the ways in which it could go wrong. All the ways in which his and Murdock's broken edges would slice into each other until there was nothing left. And Face would pull back.

There was no way to pull back from this now though. This had to happen and Murdock was going to get hurt, no matter what Face did. He could try and lessen it as much as possible though. That was about all he could do.

Murdock shifted against Face's chest, beginning to get anxious again. This was taking too long: Murdock could only hold himself still for a certain amount of time before his control would snap. No more stalling. Stop thinking about it and just get it done, soldier.

Face kept one arm around Murdock's chest, a comfort and a restraint, and dropped the other to the narrow line of his hip. Face pushed slowly under layers of shirts until he found skin, hot and smooth and flinching away from his touch. He hoped it was because his hands were cold and Murdock always ran a little hot, but Face never tried to run cons on himself.

He spread his palm across Murdock's hip, following the lines of it with his thumb, stroking the soft skin, and then sliding around to the front where there was short sparse hair beneath his navel and firm muscle that twitched against Face's palm. He knew Murdock's body like he knew his own, like he knew BA's and Hannibal's. There was no room for modesty in the Military or in the close quarters they found themselves these days. He knew the lean muscle that Murdock hid beneath layers, knew his scars and how he had gotten most of them. He had even touched on more than one occasion, but not like this. Nothing like this.

Murdock made a trapped animal sound in his throat, his heart pounding so hard that it seemed to Face as if it lay beneath his own ribcage, his blood moving to its rhythms. Face murmured something nonsensical and rubbed Murdock's flat belly in the same calm circles he had before, waiting until he heard Murdock's breathing start to even out before slowly peeling the tee shirts and undershirt up and away. At least three separate layers: Texan boy was always cold when they were in the Northern states.

And then he had Murdock shirtless and hot and pressed up against Face's chest. This wasn't new either, they had done this too. Playing touch football, messing around in the pool, just sharing each other's space. Murdock was a lot less self conscious about his scars when it was just the four of them. They were the only people he would let see him broken.

Face avoided the scars to drop kisses against Murdock's neck, the light freckles on his shoulders, the nape of his neck. Murdock let out a shaky breath and, with a little encouragement, lowered his head further, granting Face access and making Face's blood crackle at the unconscious submission in his pose. Face swept one hand up from between Murdock's shoulder blades, pushing his hair off his neck so that Face could graze his teeth against the ridges of his spine, startling a strangled noise out of Murdock and his hips jerking back against Face.

Delicious pressure that Face had to rut into, slow gentle push with his hands on Murdock's hips. Holding lightly, easy for Murdock to break away if he wanted. Murdock made a sound with no breath behind it and held himself perfectly still.

Face stroked his thumbs over the finely-grained skin at Murdock's waist, narrow and firm and almost lost in his hands. He wanted to turn Murdock around and go to his knees, bite at those hip bones, lick the trail of hair that led down into the waistband of his pants, breathe him in. He wanted so much that his brain was flooded with it and he was drowning. Wanted most of all for Murdock to want this back, to crave Face's touch instead of enduring it. Face never did get what he wanted, not really.

He turned Murdock around anyway because he needed to see his face, needed to see what was in his eyes. Murdock's head was still partly bowed and he looked up at Face through his eyelashes, eyes dark and lips parted. He didn't resist, just kept his wide dark eyes on Face as Face cupped the back of his head and pulled him in to kiss.

Murdock made an unintelligible sound low in his throat and Face used the opportunity to lick deep into his mouth, tasting blood and something chemical that might have been on the gag or might have been in Murdock's breakfast. He heard himself moan at that, wanting more.

And then Murdock was struggling, was pushing at Face and Face opened his eyes to find Murdock staring at him, pupils blown and looking furious. Face released him slowly, the wall at Murdock's back didn't let him go too far and Face didn't back off. Murdock was shaking, his hands raised and clenching into fists, clearly wanting to sock Face in the mouth.

“What?” Face stared back, trying to read Murdock's expression, trying to read what he'd done wrong. “What, I'm not allowed to kiss you now?”

“What do you mean ' _now_ '?!”

“Murdock, it's just a kiss. What the Hell, man? If you can't even stand to do that with me how the Hell are we going to...”

“Going to put your _dick_ in my _ass_?” Murdock hissed nastily. “Look, I get it, okay? We haven't got a choice here. I'm not some delicate fucking flower. Just _get on with it_. I don't need you to put any of your special moves on me like I'm some girl in a bar, okay? Let's just agree that I'm pretty much a sure thing right now and get to it.”

He screwed his eyes shut and dropped his voice. “Don't... don't play with me. Don't mess with my head, Face. I can't take that right now. Not from you.”

Face reached out slowly and when his fingertips touched Murdock's shoulders Murdock's eyes snapped open, hot and angry, but he didn't try to shake Face off. Face stroked down the length of Murdock's arms, feeling the corded muscle trembling under his palms. Sometimes touch was the way to break through to him, to soothe him and show him that something was real. Murdock's posture relaxed slightly but he didn't lose his wary expression.

“I'm not messing with you,” Face said quietly. “If we're going to do this I want to kiss you. Come on,” he pulled Murdock's arms gently, reeling him in although Murdock went reluctantly. “Come on. Let me kiss you. I'm an awesome kisser, man. Best there is. Scouts gave me a merit badge for excellence in the field of kissing.”

“Why were you kissing Scouts?” Murdock asked, as unable to resist that opening as Face had known he would be. He was gradually thawing but still looked suspicious. “You don't have to. _Face_. I don't need that.”

“Yeah, well maybe I do.”

He pulled Murdock to him, one palm spread at the small of his back and the other cupped against his jaw, angling him up those extra couple of inches to kiss. Murdock was awkward and brittle and resentful against him, holding himself unnaturally still with his hands fisted at his sides. His mouth was a tight seam that gradually softened and parted under Face's persistent tongue, allowing him to stroke inside.

Heat and wetness, Murdock's tongue shy against his but coaxed into being drawn out to slide against Face's palate, to run over his teeth. Face stroked his thumb across Murdock's cheekbone, trying to keep this gentle and not spook Murdock, trying to keep a rein on himself. He sucked lightly at Murdock's bottom lip, forgetting that it was split until Murdock hissed and jerked against him.

The hiss hadn't sounded pained though. Not really. Face hesitated for barely a second before sucking at Murdock's lip again, a little harder this time, and Murdock jerked again, hands clutching at Face's arms and moaning low in his throat. The vibration went right through Face and he pushed into the kiss harder and Murdock pushed back for the first time, teeth bared and tongue demanding.

Face used his superior size and strength to back Murdock up against the wall but Murdock seemed to have no problem with that, stutter of breath that wasn't quite a laugh into the kiss and his hands now on Face's back, pulling him in. Murdock used his teeth when he kissed almost as much as his lips and tongue, sharp little edge to his kisses, a dark twist that wasn't safe or sane. Something that Face couldn't get enough of.

Face was lost in this, lost like he always got in sex. He hooked fingers into Murdock's belt loops and yanked their hips flush together, trying to get some friction as he felt blood racing through him. Murdock's heart beating beneath his ribcage, Murdock's rhythms pulling him in.

“Jesus, this is so fucking sweet,” Harding's voice was dark and full of gleeful mockery. “Are you going to give him your Letterman jacket before you go all the way?”

Murdock jerked away, snarling, and Face grabbed him on instinct. He pinned Murdock against the wall, a warped shadow to what he had just been doing, holding Murdock with his body and trying to catch his eye, trying to stop this before Murdock was gone. He didn't want Murdock to start fighting because he was fucking deadly in close quarters and Face wouldn't fight him and he couldn't let him go, couldn't stop this now they'd started. If Murdock got free he'd be shot down like a rabid dog and that was not how this was going to end.

“Hey, come on, Murdock. Come on, buddy. It's okay, it's okay,” Face tried to keep his tone calm, tried to use it to call Murdock back.

“How is it okay, Face?” Murdock turned on him, teeth bared. The kiss had opened his lip up again and there was blood trickling down his chin. Face wanted to lean in and lick it clean. Madness. This was madness.

“ _Face_! Face, come on. Tell me.” It was Murdock pleading with him now, sounding furious and close to the edge. “Tell me, please. Tell me how it's going to be okay.”

Face looked him in the eye without flinching. Murdock always wore his heart in his eyes and his heart was an open wound, some raw uncareful thing that made Face afraid for him. Afraid for him and sometimes afraid _of_ him. Afraid that his reckless bravery was contagious. Afraid that if he looked too deep it might wake up places in Face that Face had shut down just to keep breathing.

Murdock stared back at him. “Face?”

“It's going to be okay because we're going to make it okay,” Face said before he knew he had an answer. “It's going to be okay because it's you and it's me and we're always okay, aren't we? You're just going to have to trust me on this, man. You trust me, right?”

Murdock nodded without even having to think about it.“To shoot me in the head,”

“Yeah. This isn't any worse than that, is it?”

Murdock didn't say anything but Face could read the answer on his face. He had to look away to hide his reaction to that, his reaction to the knowledge that Murdock would rather be shot through the head again than let Face put his hands on him. Stupid, Face. What did you expect?

Murdock made a small sound in his throat. “I trust you,” he said softly and Face wanted to weep.

“Okay then.” Face nodded, composing himself and easing up his hold on Murdock. Murdock stayed in place against the wall, watching him with eyes that didn't know how to be careful.

Face stroked his hands down Murdock's arms, gentle over the places he knew would bruise later. Just one more harm he had inflicted upon Murdock. Murdock caught one of his hands when it reached his wrist and squeezed it briefly before letting go. Face swallowed, keeping his eyes on Murdock but raising his voice to address Harding. “We're going to need a couple of things.”

“Champagne and rose petals?”

“More like a condom and some lube.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Harding's voice was what a smirk sounded like. “He looks like he's getting wet enough that you might not need it, stud.”

“ _Please_ ,” Face said, turning around to stare at Harding. What was the use of pride anymore?

Harding made a satisfied noise and signalled to one of the goons. They took a tub of Vaseline from an inside jacket pocket and pushed it across the desk, staying well out of Face's range. Face stared at the tub and didn't think about the fact that they had Vaseline so readily to hand. He also didn't think about what would have happened if he hadn't come back for Murdock when he did.

He waited but Harding shook his head. “That's all you're getting. You can go in bareback I think. More romantic that way.”

“You know, there's really not much that's romantic about crotch rot,” Murdock chimed in. “Though I wouldn't expect you to know that. Got to be a reason your only experience of sex is as audience member, huh?”

Harding narrowed his eyes. “I can show you how wrong you are after handsome here has broken you in.”

Face shot a look at Murdock who had gone still and bitten his lip, as if that would keep in what he had already said. Being a smartass was such a default setting for both of them that Murdock had clearly spoken without thinking. Face couldn't afford to be so careless.

“Now, I don't think that's necessary,” Face said quickly in his most charming voice. “Kind _kind_ offer but I think we're good. Right, Murdock?”

Murdock just chewed at his lip like he didn't realise he was already bleeding.

“Okay then!” Face said brightly. “So we've got some Vaseline. That's _great_. Good for dry elbows too. No chance of a condom then? None of you fellas happen to have one in your wallet? Maybe in the same pocket you just happened to have the Vaseline? Come on, handsome guys like you-”

“Get on with it.”

“Okay then.”

Feeling oddly more exposed and aware of the guns centred on his chest, Face slowly moved the few steps to grab the Vaseline, glancing at Harding as he did. Harding wasn't looking at him. Harding had that same expression on his face that he'd directed at Face earlier, something darkly hungry and coldly amused in his eyes, but he was looking past Face now and Face turned to follow his gaze.

Murdock had stayed in place against the wall, was leaning back against it with his hips cocked forwards and his chin tilted up as he coolly returned Harding's stare. He was shirtless and bloody and looked like he'd been kissed into a wall by someone who meant it. Face could see everything that Harding saw, couldn't not see it, but he could also see all the things that Harding never would. Things only Face, Hannibal and BA would know to look for.

He could see the way Murdock's hands were thrust into his pockets because he wanted to hide how they were shaking. He could see the way Murdock was against the wall because he needed something steady at his back, and how he wasn't leaning so much as pressed against the wall. Pushing his shoulders into it as he tried to get as much distance between himself and this situation as possible. He could see the way Murdock's jaw was raised and clenched to keep him from saying anything. To keep him from asking for anything he knew he wouldn't get.

Murdock had drawn a remote mask over his face to hide behind, but his eyes flicked from Harding to Face and Face could see everything there. Could see the open wound starting to leak blood and this needed to be over. This needed to be done.

Face took his pants and shorts off and draped them over the chair with his shirt and jacket, keeping his shoes and socks on even though he knew it looked ridiculous. He needed to be ready to run or fight. Murdock watched him nervously, his expression blank but his hands came out of his pockets reflexively and he tried to press himself even further into the wall as Face approached. There was a wolf whistle from the other side of the room, which, damn right, Face's ass was worth a wolf whistle.

He didn't have any hang ups about being naked: he didn't work out every day for nothing. He knew how vulnerable it made Murdock feel though and if Murdock was being forced to reveal himself like this, the least Face could do was make sure he wasn't alone.

He stood in front of Murdock, kept eye contact and unfastened Murdock's flies. Murdock stared at him, whole body twitching with the desire to run, to fight, to not allow this to happen. His hands were screwed into fists at his hips.

“It's just me,” Face murmured. “Just you and me here, okay? Just keep looking at me."

Murdock's mouth twisted into a sickly grin. “That's some exhibitionist streak you've got there, Face.”

Face laughed, surprised and grateful. Murdock wasn't even close to being okay but he was trying, and that was something. “Tell me about it. You're talking to a guy who sold tickets to the first time he got to third base. Of course, some people may have bought tickets to see Sister Mary Constantine without her habit, but I like to believe that I was really the star attraction.”

“I'll bet.”

And then Murdock's pants and shorts were puddled around his ankles and his eyes stayed fixed on Face. Face opened the tub of Vaseline and Murdock flinched, thumping one of his fists against the wall and making an angry noise low in his throat.

The tub of Vaseline was half empty, clear grooves where fingers had dug in and scooped the jelly out. Face didn't let himself think about what had happened to the owner of those fingers. Didn't think about how in time someone might see the marks his fingers had made in the jelly and wonder what had become of him.

Murdock was staring at the half empty tub too and Face hoped they weren't both not thinking about the same thing. Don't let Murdock go down that road, keep him here, keep him close. Keep this moving.

“Murdock. Murdock, hey, this will probably be easier if you lean over the desk,” Face said quietly.

Murdock started shaking his head slowly, back and forth movement that Face wasn't even sure he was aware he was making. His entire body was clenched, muscles standing out in stark relief along his chest and shoulders.

“Murdock, come on.” Face reached out to touch him and Murdock jumped as if he'd been struck. “Stay with me. Just you and me, buddy. Come on.”

Murdock licked his lips, tremors running through him and his eyes wandering off to the side. Looking at something that wasn't in the room. Face had seen him get like that before and he cupped Murdock's face with his hand and brought him back to look into Face's eyes. Face's voice was low and not quite steady. “Come on, Murdock. Stay with me. Don't make me do this on my own.”

Murdock blinked, there was wetness in his eyes but it didn't fall, just made them seem over-bright and it was all Face could do not to start crying himself. Murdock's pupils were like pin pricks but they fixed on Face, caught at him, and Murdock was here with him in the room.

“You with me, buddy?” Face asked to be sure.

Murdock nodded. “I think so. Yeah. Yeah, I'm here.”

He reached out and pinched Face on the arm, making him jump. “Hey!”

“Sorry. Just checking.”

“You're supposed to pinch _yourself_ to see if you're awake.”

“That's not what I was checking for.” Murdock looked down at the tub of Vaseline in Face's hand. “Haven't we come up with a better plan yet?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Murdock shuddered and stayed against the wall for a few unsteady breaths, steeling himself. Then he pushed past Face, moving like an old man, and bent across the desk, palms flat on the cheap ass plywood surface and his head bowed between his hunched shoulders. His back looked like a broken line, like a scar carved through rock. Like something damaged beyond repair.

Face placed himself beside Murdock's left hip. Staying where Murdock could see him and staying between him and their audience, shielding him as much as he could. Murdock was one long line of tension from his clawed fingers to his feet in their weathered boots and Face stroked a hand down his back. Wanting to remind Murdock that he wasn't alone, wanting him to remember that, whatever the fucked up circumstances, this was still an act of love.

He wanted to touch. Had wanted to for years and now there was no choice and no possibility that this could ever be something that Murdock would welcome. God and his universe could be cruel motherfuckers when it came down to it.

He had allowed himself to imagine what he would do to Murdock if given the chance. How he would spread him out like a banquet and glut himself, take his time, discover all the secrets Murdock was hiding behind his eyes. Find out who Murdock really was and let Murdock see behind Face's mask too. Let him see something in Face that Face wasn't certain was still there.

In all his imaginings, he had never pictured it fast and awkward and in front of three armed perverts.

Murdock's back muscles twitched beneath Face's palm, a restrained shake, wanting Face's hands off of him. Right.

He dug his fingers into the Vaseline and, easy as that, wiped out any evidence of what had happened before in this room. Wiped out any evidence of whoever had been here and what might have happened to them. Face looked down at the marks his fingers had left in the jelly for a moment and then carefully smoothed the surface with his thumb. Face wasn't going to let anyone else erase him. He could do that himself.

When he had gotten his fingers as coated as he could, Face touched one hand to Murdock's hip as a warning and then slowly eased a greased finger inside. Murdock made a choked sound and stirred restlessly but didn't move away. Face tried to be clinical about it, to pretend that the finger working inside the slick heat of Murdock's body was somehow separate from the rest of him, but it was impossible. He could already feel blood rushing in his ears, moving through his veins to that familiar rhythm, drowning out anything besides his body and the body surrounding him.

There was very little resistance. Murdock was hot and tight but he opened beneath Face's touch, enough to soon slide another finger inside, making Murdock grunt and scuff his feet against the concrete floor.

Face was so focussed on Murdock's reactions, the rise and fall of his ribcage, the sounds he couldn't quite stifle, the way his body gripped Face's fingers, that he forgot anything else. His world narrowed down to a single point as it always did when he began this dance. This lack of peripheral vision was usually his downfall, but Face wouldn't know what the point of life was if he didn't get to have this.

He was so immersed in the blood-hot vice around his fingers and the shift of muscles playing across Murdock's back that it came as a shock to remember that they had an audience. To be reminded of it by coarse laughter.

“Shit, yeah, give him another finger. He's loving it,” one of the goons sneered.

Whatever hold Murdock had been exercising over his fight or flight response shattered instantly, his elbow snapping back. Face ducked just in time to avoid a broken nose and, without thinking, grabbed the elbow, twisting it up behind Murdock's back. Murdock would always fight before he'd flee and the priority was to contain him before it got to that. He kicked Murdock's legs wide to destabilise him and pinned him against the desk with a forearm across the back of his neck.

Murdock went mad at that, bucking and snarling and trying desperately to kick, and Face realised too late what this must read like in Murdock's panicked state. Not least of all because Face had been hard ever since Murdock had bent over the desk and evidence of that was digging into Murdock's lower back.

There were catcalls and whoops from the other side of the room, but Murdock was in serious danger of dislocating his shoulder or breaking his neck so Face needed to act fast. He pushed himself flush against Murdock's back, bearing him down beneath his weight and ignoring the glorious pressure this created against his dick. He adjusted his hold on Murdock's neck, fisted a hand in his hair to keep him from butting as Face leaned in to hiss in his ear, “Murdock! Murdock, stop it. It's Face. It's me, it's Face. Come on, calm down. Calm down, buddy.”

He repeated this mantra of nothingness, keeping his voice as level and soothing as he could, until Murdock's struggles wound down. He lay shivering beneath Face, panting hot damp exhales along the inside of Face's forearm and making rough noises in the back of his throat that could be either panic or anger.

Face took a risk and loosened his grip on Murdock's hair, let it turn gentle, and Murdock stayed in place. “Ignore them, Murdock. _Murdock_. It's just you and me, okay? Close your eyes and change the channel in your head. Pretend we're somewhere else. Just you and me, buddy. Pretend...” He licked his lips and felt a sour wash of self hatred but couldn't stop himself from saying it. “Pretend we've had a bit to drink and we're doing this because we want to. Because you want me and I want you.”

“No,” Murdock moaned in distress, trying to twist out of Face's grip. “Face, I can't do this. I changed my mind.”

“You can't change your mind.” Face rode out his struggles, pushed his fingers through Murdock's hair and let the words pour out of him in a reckless torrent. “Come on, buddy, stay with me. Just the two of us, right? We're back at a hotel, okay, and we've been wanting to do this for ages. For years. And now we're going to. It's just you and me here – anything else is just the tv making noise, it doesn't mean anything. Just you and me. And we want this.” Face closed his eyes and pressed his forehead between Murdock's shoulder blades. “We want this so much.”

Murdock let out a sound that might be a sob. “Don't say that, Face. Please don't say that.”

Face felt cold seep through his chest but that was all he let himself feel. It was like telling your body to go into shock – stay numb now and just accept that it'll hurt like Hell later on. “Come on, buddy. Murdock. Hey, Murdock, just pretend okay? For me? Pretend that you want me, please. Just for a little while. Please.”

Murdock's breath hitched. “I want you, Face.”

It was horrible how real he could make that sound. Horrible how much Face wanted to ignore all evidence to the contrary and just believe him. Believe in it, let himself pretend along with Murdock. Just for a moment. “Yeah, just like that. That's good. That's good.”

Murdock let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“You want me and I want you. It's just us.”

“Okay,” his voice was weak. “Don't give me any more fingers, Face. I don't need them. Just go straight in.”

Face had to bite his lip very hard not to react to that. He thanked God that Murdock couldn't see the inside of his head right now, couldn't see what images Murdock's desire to get this over with as quickly as possible had conjured up. Whatever thin sliver of doubt there had ever been was now gone: Face was definitely going to Hell.

 _Not yet though, Lord. Please not yet_.

He released Murdock carefully, watching for any sudden moves, but the fight seemed to have gone out of him and taken any animation with it. He listlessly tried to shake some life back into his arm and scrubbed both hands across his face, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes for several seconds, and then he hunched back over the desk. He didn't lift his head, didn't look across the room and didn't look at Face.

At the other end of the room, Harding and his goons had clearly decided to quieten down and wait for the show to start: it was something they'd seen before a number of times but they liked it enough to keep coming back. All three of them were avid regular viewers.

All three of them were dead men, they just didn't have sense enough to know it.

Harding returned Face's look smugly and made an easy to read gesture. _Get on with it_. Face sent back a one-fingered gesture of his own.

Face carefully scooped out more Vaseline and slicked himself up, keeping his touch light and taking deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. He hated himself for being so hard for this, his body so eager, even as his mind recoiled from the tension in Murdock's spine. He had to be hard, had to enjoy it on at least a physical level, but all of that just sounded like weak justifications in his head. He couldn't justify how little trouble his body had falling in line with this. There was no way to make that okay.

He took a shaky breath and tapped Murdock on the hip as he had done before. Stupid to think that Murdock would take comfort from the warning, would hear _it's just me, I'm still here, you aren't alone_ in the touch of Face's fingers against his skin. Over a dozen languages between them and this was what it came down to. He had to believe that Murdock could hear him, that he could tell the difference between Face's touch and everyone who'd ever touched him before.

He had to believe that because there were no other options. Too late to turn back and nowhere to turn even if he tried. Get on with it. Face kept his hand on Murdock's hip, ready to hold him if he should jerk away, and began to push his way into Murdock's body.

Tight. So tight and hot and perfect and Murdock made a breathless broken sound that would feature in Face's dreams for the next few millennia. Face bit the inside of his cheek and tried to go slow, rocking his hips forward in tiny increments, pressing rather than thrusting because it was so very tight and he didn't want to hurt Murdock any more than he had to.

Finally, he was in as deep as he could get and Face curled himself across Murdock's back, hand braced beside Murdock's on the desk and his vision pulsing black around the edges. The air in the room was stifling, was too thick for him to get a proper lungful no matter how he gasped and his skin felt shivery and open, his pores pushing sweat out at his temples and between his shoulder blades.

Beneath him, Murdock shuddered and shifted his weight, widening his stance a little more and Face's hips snapped forward mindlessly, knocking a sharp sound from Murdock. Face gripped Murdock's hip, more to keep himself from just driving forward into the body beneath him than to keep Murdock in place.

If Face had his way they would have done this with Murdock on his back. On a bed with Murdock on his back with his legs high in the air and Face bearing down on him. That way he could see it all on Murdock's face, see what felt good, what was too much, how he liked to be touched. Face could learn him that way. Could learn him and let Murdock see who it was with him the whole time.

The thought of that, of Murdock lying back and welcoming him in made Face groan and rock his hips forward again into that tight heat. It would be so easy to close his eyes and let that fantasy take hold, to lose himself in the sweet clench of Murdock's body and pretend the choked off gasps and moans were sounds of pleasure. To forget who Murdock was and what this must be for him.

Face shuddered and hated himself some more. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed circles on Murdock's hip with his thumb, found the curving scar just above his hipbone by touch alone and followed its ragged line. Their fourth mission together as a team and Murdock had gotten stabbed with a broken bottle during a bar fight. During the endless drive to the hospital, Murdock had ranted deliriously about his attacker's lousy taste in beer, but Face had watched the white bar towel grow red under his hands and maybe that was where this had started.

He was still trying desperately to keep Murdock whole and alive beneath his hands, still trying to hold together the parts of him that were torn open and bleeding out. Still having to hurt him in order to do that.

Face abandoned that old wound and smoothed his palm up the lean line of Murdock's waist to his ribcage, feeling it rise and fall with Murdock's laboured breaths. His friend alive and hurting beneath his hands, beneath his body.

He turned his face into the side of Murdock's neck. “Murdock,” he whispered. “You okay, buddy?”

Murdock gave an assenting hum that vibrated through Face's lips. A tight low sound in Murdock's throat and clearly he didn't trust his voice right then. Didn't want Face to hear the pain in it. Face tried to see his face but Murdock ducked away from him, giving him nothing but the tense line of his jaw, the deep creases at the corner of a screwed shut eye, and the least Face could do was allow him the illusion that he could hide from this.

“I've got to move now, okay?” Face squeezed his eyes shut and licked his lips. “You just... I... I've got to _move_ , Murdock.”

Another hum at the back of Murdock's throat. This one broke in the middle, sounding strangled and not at all steady but it was the best Face was going to get, it was enough to let him continue. Enough to let him do this.

Face rocked forwards, wincing at the hiss this sparked from Murdock. His hips stuttered, faltering, but gradually falling into a rhythm, as slow and undemanding as he could force himself to be with his temples pounding red and his treacherous body spurring him on.

As gentle as he was trying to be, each thrust wrung a gasp from Murdock. He was clearly trying to hold them in, trying to be silent, but that had never been Murdock's strong suit and they escaped from his clenched jaw as he squirmed beneath Face, clutching at the cheap desk as if it were a life preserver.

At each ragged inhale Murdock's back pushed against Face's chest, arching up and then twisting away as another shudder wracked him. There was enough sweat between them for their skins to catch against one another, but not enough to let them slide freely, smacking and dragging like their bodies were sharing Sunday morning kisses in the midst of this. Face tried to slow himself, but this lazy caress across his chest and nipples and the feel and the heat and the sheer _fact_ of Murdock beneath him and the jagged noises he was trying to contain went straight to his blood, driving him forwards with more force than he meant.

Murdock went down onto his elbows, driving identical grunts out of them both at the abrupt change in angle. Murdock buried his face in the crook of his elbow, his chest heaving and his breathing harsh and stricken, as Face gripped Murdock's hip, pulling him back to that good angle far more gently than he would have believed himself capable, biting the inside of his mouth to keep his control as Murdock gasped and twisted beneath him, muscle and tendon stark all across his back.

He sounded like he was in a lot of pain and Face tried to see his expression, sick with guilt and arousal and fear. Murdock was flushed and sweating, eyes clenched shut and one fist between his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood as he tried to choke back his cries.

“Hey! Hey, no, don't do that.” Face's stomach turned over at the sight of Murdock damaging himself just to get through this. To get through what Face was doing to him.

Without thinking about it, he wrenched Murdock's hand away and pushed the first two fingers of his own hand against Murdock's lips. If he had to bite someone, hurt someone, he could hurt Face. It was no more than he deserved.

To his shock, Murdock immediately sucked Face's fingers into his mouth and moaned around them.

Hot wet suction, Murdock moaning and licking at his fingers like they had somehow sidestepped into porn again, really fucking good porn this time, and Face had to force himself to look away from the painfully lewd sight of his fingers disappearing between Murdock's pink spit-slick lips. Face screwed his eyes shut and tasted blood in his mouth and wondered if he had gone mad at some point in the past few minutes because _what the Hell_?

Murdock made a deep sound low in his throat and the vibration shuddered down Face's spine, snapping his hips forward with punishing force, and Murdock just moaned louder and sucked even harder and that sound and the feel of Murdock's body hotly gripping him at both ends was firing through Face's brain, shorting out everything else. He snapped his hips and Murdock moaned and he snapped his hips and it was a circuit, a loop of sound and sensation that swept Face up and carried him away from himself.

Face was so lost in the heat and the rush of this, the pleasure crackling under his skin, coiling at the base of his spine, that it took him a lot longer than it should have to realise that Murdock was pushing back into him, just slightly but definitely there. Murdock pushing back into his thrusts and moaning orgasmically around his fingers and Face can be pretty slow on the uptake sometimes, especially when all his blood has migrated south of the border, but he gets there in the end.

Face pulled his fingers out of Murdock's mouth, feeling a dark clench at the bereft growl this provoked, and then slid his hand down Murdock's chest to his dick. Murdock made a harsh sound, bucking into his touch, and his dick was hard and leaking in Face's hand.

For several dizzying heartbeats Face froze in place, his brain starved of blood and oxygen and insisting that this couldn't be what it looked like. Couldn't be what it felt like, no matter that it felt hot and hard and perfectly curved against his palm like it had been made for his touch. This couldn't be what Face wanted it to be. Physical reaction, that's all it was. Murdock's body reacting to stimulus and nothing he could control, nothing he wanted. It didn't make this any less of a violation.

He still had his hand cradled around Murdock's dick and, without thinking about it, deliberately not thinking about it, Face tightened his grip and stroked in one long pull from the root to the tip. Murdock choked at that and twisted his hips, either away or for more but he was caught between Face's hand and his dick and there was nowhere for him to go.

Face didn't think about what he was doing, couldn't think as he squeezed his palm across the leaking head, coating the inside of his fist, turning the downstroke into an echo of the slick grip of Murdock's body around him as he matched his thrusts to his strokes. Couldn't think about how he just wanted Murdock to feel what he felt. Murdock was shaking, was shaking his head and pushing up onto his forearms and struggling to say something that was lost in a broken plosive sound as Face bit the nape of his neck.

Face couldn't let him speak, couldn't hear whatever he was trying to say, because Face couldn't stop this. There was only one way for this to end and he had to believe that it would be crueler to leave Murdock hard and aching than to take him beautifully in hand and have them finish this together. He had Murdock writhing and gasping beneath him, better than any porn, better than any fantasy he'd had of what this could be like, and Face hadn't chosen this but it was happening all the same and it was the only time he would get to have this, to have Murdock like this, and he was too weak to say no to that. Murdock would forgive him: he always forgave Face.

Murdock was still trying to speak, trying to get breath enough to say something, and Face went down onto his elbow, braced against the desk, crushing Murdock beneath his weight and pushing the fingers of that hand into Murdock's mouth. He cried out when Murdock bit him and, fair enough, those fingers had gone ass to mouth, but Murdock took them in anyway, sucking on Face's fingers like he'd never wanted anything more in his life and it was the hottest and most filthy thing Face had ever seen.

Face groaned and dragged his tongue against the slick salt of Murdock's neck, mouthing his shoulder, pressing his face in until he wasn't sure if he was smelling or tasting or just absorbing Murdock through his pores. He felt his skin growing very tight and thin and entirely open to Murdock, the way Murdock's body was open to him, sinking the two of them deeper and deeper into each other until there would be nothing left of Face without this.

It wasn't the same for Murdock, Face knew that. He could give him this though, could give him his hand and his fingers and his dick angled _just right_ and light up Murdock's body like it was the fourth of July. Face could always have given Murdock that and he was giving it to him now because he needed to know, needed Murdock to know, even in the midst of this insanity that they probably wouldn't live through, how this could have been, what they could have had if Murdock wasn't so broken and Face wasn't such a coward.

This might be all they had, just this, and it still felt like more than Face had ever had in his entire life.

And then there was no more time to think because it was a race now. That heat at the base of Face's spine, that wave he could feel approaching, Murdock's skin beneath his mouth, the noises he can feel but not hear over the rushing in his ears, the narrowing of his world. He couldn't stop now, this was the part he lived for, and he could feel his climax building in him and he chased towards it, driving Murdock ahead of him with his thrusts and his hand stripping Murdock's dick.

And it was beautiful how Murdock was lost in this, was right there with him. All this time Face had been trying to keep Murdock whole and together when what he really wanted was to be the one to take him apart.

Murdock was breaking open, was shattering around him, shaking hard enough to rattle his bones and the shakes built, grew closer, merged together until he was just trembling, drawn tight as a bowstring, humming with the force caged beneath his skin. One second. Two. And then he was coming, was coming around Face's dick and in his hand, and Face held on just long enough to draw the last of it out of him, to coax him through the aftershocks, before he had to give three more hard slick thrusts and follow after.

Face just lay across Murdock's back, mouth open at his neck, and waited for the world to come back. Gradually, details started to seep back in and he began to notice things like how they were stuck together with sweat and that he was crushing Murdock under his weight, Murdock's lungs straining beneath him. He shifted his weight, found his feet beneath him, and Murdock let out a groan that turned into a hiccup.

Along with awareness of his physical surroundings, a memory of what had brought them here resurfaced and Face turned his head to look across at their audience.

He turned away again immediately. There have been a lot of things in Face's life that he would pay good money to never have to see again, but right now he thought that the sight of a grown man in a Disney necktie jerking off topped the list.

Murdock stirred beneath him, making a hazy inquisitive noise and Face just put his hand over Murdock's eyes. At least one of them could be spared. Murdock lay quiescent under his hand, eyelashes beating like wings against his palm, and the two of them just stayed in a quiet space of cooling skin and their combined scents until the sounds from the other side of the room reached a definite conclusion.

Once Face was certain he was in no further danger of having to watch Uncle Walt spanking the mouse, he braced himself and gingerly withdrew from Murdock's body, Murdock shuddering and making a displeased sound at that. And then Face was on his feet, was turning to face Harding, to face this.

Thankfully, Harding had tucked himself back into his ill-fitting suit and was wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief by the time Face turned around. Face could hear Murdock moving sluggishly behind him, could hear his skin unpeeling from where it had stuck to the desk, his boots scuffing against the floor. Face didn't look back though, didn't break eye contact with Harding. He stood there with Murdock at his back and his arms at his sides, fully aware of how wrecked and filthy and fucked out he must look. You paid for this porno, motherfucker, take a good hard look.

Harding's eyes crawled across Face and his expression was something Face would like to punch right off his face. “Well, that wasn't bad at all,” Harding said, slightly breathless, and Face felt his gorge rise. “I think we all found that invigorating, right? How did he feel, handsome? He feel good?”

Face just stared at him. If Harding tried to touch either of them Face would kill him on the spot.

Harding laughed shortly. “Yeah, he felt good. I know he did. He seems to think you felt good too, did that surprise you?”

Face could hear Murdock breathing behind him, heavy and uneven, but trying to get control over himself. He felt the heat of Murdock's body at the back of his shoulder and his body wanted to move towards it, to touch him again. Face let himself glance at Murdock and his heart kicked against his ribs at the look on Murdock's face, a fear response from his Lizard Brain that knew something dangerous when he saw it.

Harding's Lizard Brain was less smart, probably only saw the sweat and the grime and the come drying across his stomach, didn't see the look in his eye. Harding licked his lips, dragging his eyes across Murdock so ostentatiously that Face was surprised that he didn't strain something. “You going to come like that if I fuck you too, Murdock? Huh? You a slut like that? Or was it _special_ with handsome here?”

The movement of air across Murdock's lips in response to that might technically be called a laugh, but the sound of it made Face's teeth hurt, made his chest close up tight like a fist. Murdock looked like he was standing upright through willpower alone but he stayed steady under Harding's attention, holding his spent and sticky and fucking glorious body open to the room, meeting Harding's eye like it was nothing to him. Only Face was close enough to feel him shaking, to feel the cold fingertips Murdock touched to the small of Face's back.

Harding narrowed his eyes, pressing in for the kill. “Shall we find out? You want me to fuck you right now? How do you think that would feel?”

Murdock shrugged with a very deliberate type of carelessness, tilting his chin up to give Harding a smile that was all teeth and not at all sane. “After Face? I doubt I'd feel it at all. Be like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.”

Face started laughing at that, which was not good but he couldn't help himself. It had more than a slightly hysterical edge to it before he managed to get it under control. Murdock didn't look at him but moved closer, lightly pressing his shoulder against Face's.

It was so tempting to give into the voice at the back of Face's head that wanted him to goad Harding into doing his worst. The situation had already taken a bullet train all the way to Hell, there wasn't really much to lose at this point. Harding had already had his show, shot his load, he had no more use for them. If you had to die: die a smartass. That was the A Team way.

There was a chance, however, just a slight chance that Harding might have more in mind for them. Or could be persuaded to have more in mind for them. The prospect of this made Face's stomach heave, but it was still better than a bullet to the head and a shallow grave. Face had found himself in some pretty unappealing situations in his life: he could put up with one more if it would give them the chance they needed to escape.

Luckily, it looked like Harding wasn't sure whether he should be pissed off at Murdock's remark or not. Thank Heaven for small IQs. He was still looking at both of them with enough interest in his eyes that Face was also thankful for the recovery time of the average man in his fifties.

“So...” Face couldn't make his tone pleasant but he managed civil by a short hair. “What now?”

“What now indeed.” Harding looked like he knew he was on safer ground talking to Face than Murdock at the moment. “What now in _deed_. That's the question isn't it? Do I kill you? Do I let you go? What do you think?”

“I think you don't want to know what I think,” Face bit out before he could stop himself. Murdock wasn't the only one who had lost patience with Harding's bullshit. Easy, Face. Easy.

Harding just laughed. “Handsome, I like you. You've got guts. I don't think I will kill you, not just yet. I like you boys, you put on a good show – very... _inspiring_. I think I'm going to keep you around for just a while longer. I've got some business to attend to and when I get back we're going to do this all over again. The other way round this time, I think. How do you feel about that, Murdock? You ready to pitch instead of catch? You going to be able to manage without some cock inside you?”

Face reached blindly behind him and grabbed Murdock's arm. Begging him not to rise to it. Harding watched the movement with satisfaction. “Don't worry. We'll make sure none of you go without.”

Face was pretty sure he was hurting Murdock now, could feel bone and tendon beneath his fingers, but Murdock didn't pull his arm away. He also didn't say anything, so Face sent up a heartfelt thank you and watched the satisfaction turn to boredom in Harding's eyes at their lack of reaction.

“Get dressed.” Harding stood up, pocketing his handkerchief. “Or don't, it's all the same to me. We're going for a walk anyway.”

Putting his clothes back on whilst still sweaty and sticky from sex had never been one of Face's favourites, even with all the practise he had gotten over the years, thanks to husbands and boyfriends (and some girlfriends) returning earlier than expected. Thanks to that, he'd had a lot of practise hiding under beds and shinning down drainpipes too and those weren't really his idea of a good time either.

He didn't complain though as he knew Murdock had it worse. He was never going to ask, but he was pretty sure that Murdock must be leaking right about now and that was never fun when you had to get back into your clothes and move quickly.

Harding and the goons herded them out of the office and across the warehouse to a large storage container. There were weak lights along the interior and Face had the sinking feeling that he and Murdock were fairly typical of the type of package Harding kept in here. If he looked closely he'd probably find traces of Vaseline on the stainless steel walls.

“Don't have too much fun, boys,” Harding sneered before they closed the door. “I want you both ready to go when I get back.”

Murdock waved his fingers at the closing door, stayed on his feet until they heard the lock click home, and then immediately buckled against the wall. Face watched him carefully for a few seconds before going over to examine the door. He had a set of lock picks in the lining of his jacket that the goons hadn't found when they patted him down, but that wasn't going to do them any good here. There wasn't even a lock to pick, not one that was accessible from the inside anyway. Harding must have chosen it especially, the sick fuck.

Frustrated, he turned away from the door and saw that Murdock had tucked himself right down into the furthest corner with his knees up and both arms over his face, head down. Face approached him cautiously. His breathing was ragged but Face didn't think he was crying, not quite.

“Hey.” Face looked at the floor, decided his pants were pretty much doomed anyway and sat beside Murdock, touching his shoulder. “Murdock, come on. Come on, man.”

Murdock flinched and folded his arms tighter around his head, drawing his legs up in a way that really couldn't be comfortable after what had just happened. His voice was muffled, so Face wasn't sure he'd heard him right because what he was saying made no sense at all. When Murdock repeated it his voice was a little clearer but he was still making no sense.

“You're... wait, what? You're _sorry_?” Face tried to pull Murdock's arms away from his face, but Murdock clung and Face didn't have the heart to force anything else on him today. “Murdock, look at me. Please look at me. Why are you sorry? You are the last person in the entire world who should be sorry for anything right now. Why are you sorry?”

Murdock hiccuped and didn't say anything. Face placed a hand across the nape of Murdock's neck, holding him steady. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because,” Murdock said, sounding angry and wretched and about as close to the end of his tether as Face had ever heard him. “ _Because_ , Face. Because I. You know. Oh _fuck you_ for making me say it.”

“Fuck you, you're going to _have_ to say it because I have no idea what you're talking about.” Face was utterly bewildered, which wasn't a rare occurrence when talking to Murdock but it seemed like there were higher stakes here than usual. He looked back over the past hour or so and tried to come up with a single thing Murdock ought to be sorry for. Biting him maybe, but he was pretty sure Murdock wasn't talking about that.

He nudged a knee against Murdock's ankle. “Seriously, man. What am I missing?”

The arms crossed over Murdock's head eased up their grip slightly, parting just enough for a single eye to squint suspiciously at Face. Face's clueless expression was obviously fairly eloquent because Murdock emerged from behind his arms a little more, lifting his head, still wary.

Face was suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting and his hand still cupped across the back of Murdock's neck. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because.” Murdock withdrew back behind his arms slightly, reminding Face of a turtle going back into its shell. Or a porcupine raising its quills. “Because I got. _Face_. You know. Because I got hard. _During_.”

Oh. Well, that answered the _what_. It was just the _why_ that Face was still having trouble with. “And you're sorry for that because...? Murdock, you got hard during sex. I got hard too. It happens. It kind of _has_ to happen for sex to happen. It's... it's a natural reaction, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It's not the same.” Murdock scowled at him.

“It kinda is,” Face said.

Murdock just snorted and twitched his shoulders out. His body language was angry, but with Murdock you had to look at his eyes to see what was really going on, and his eyes were full of pain.

“That's... that's kind of you to say.” Murdock closed his eyes as if realising what Face could see there, he kept his voice held tight and flat. “But I'm sorry anyway. I didn't mean to let it happen and I wouldn't have... I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, okay? I get it. You're a good friend. The best. You didn't... you didn't have to do that, Face. I would never ask that from you. I don't need that from you. I don't need your pity, okay? I don't need that.”

Somewhere in the last few minutes Face must have hit his head because this was making no sense. Or, actually, maybe it was just the kind of blow upside the head he'd needed because now things were making all kinds of sense. All kinds of insane Murdock-style sense that he was maybe just beginning to understand.

“You wanted it,” Face said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “Not – not like that. But. Me. You wanted me.”

Murdock made an impatient gesture and wouldn't meet his eyes.

Face looked at the resigned set of his shoulders, the tense line of his mouth that, mere minutes ago, had wrapped itself around Face's fingers like a starving man offered sustenance. Murdock's neck was warm, his pulse rapid beneath Face's fingertips. How had Face missed this? What else had he missed while he was too busy sneaking looks but not letting himself actually _see_?

“I wanted you too. I want you too,” he said finally.

Murdock glanced at him, wary and sceptical. “Do not.”

“Do too!” Face realised he had allowed himself to be drawn into the world's most stupid way of arguing. “I mean... yes I do. I've wanted you for... a while.”

The scepticism didn't leave Murdock's eyes and, really, even Face had to admit that it sounded kind of weak. What was it about today that all of his words and his patter and his celebrated powers of persuasion kept fucking off and deserting him when he needed them most? Leaving him with nothing but himself and the naked truth, and maybe that was all that was needed now. “I love you, you asshole.”

“You said that already,” Murdock said, unimpressed. And maybe not. “You love me, you love Hannibal, you love BA. Lots of love, I get that.”

“I love you... different.”

_Oh, for fuck's sake, Face. Who ever said you had game?_

“Is this because we're going to get raped to death in the not too distant future?” Murdock sat up and crossed his legs under him, the movement taking his neck away from Face's hand, leaving him with nothing. “Face, I don't need you to lie to me just so the crazy man gets to have one happy thought in his head when he dies. That's real sweet and everything, but shut up.”

“Jesus Christ!” Face gave up, ramming his back against the wall, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Fine! You're right: I don't love you. Happy? Let's change the fucking subject, shall we?”

They lapsed into a tense silence. Face determinedly didn't look at Murdock, just fussed and glared down at his utterly fucking ruined pants. Damn Hannibal and his refusal to include a clothing allowance in their fee. Damn the jobs for always seeming to take place in warehouses and ditches and a million and one other places that fine tailoring had no place being. Damn everything.

“What do you love about me?” Murdock asked eventually. His tone was cautious, like he was expecting the punchline at any moment.

“Oh, fuck you,” Face snapped. He looked at Murdock's face and relented. “Lots of things. Stuff.”

“Oh. _Stuff_. Well, yeah, I can see why _stuff_ would really get your motor running.”

“What do you want from me, man? What do you want me to say?” Face felt the wall at his back, felt his hackles rise. “What, do you want a list? You want me to count the ways, quote you a sonnet? Maybe you'd like for me to chase after you to the airport and stop you getting on that plane. Or we could have Hannibal and BA lock us in a hotel room together until we've sorted out all our wacky misunderstandings.”

As always, Murdock totally ignored his outburst, his eyes sharp and knowing. “I want you to say how come if you _love me different_ you never thought this might be something worth mentioning. I've seen you with people you want. You ain't shy. Seems like if you really meant it you'd have said something, done something, before now.”

Which was a fair point and completely took the wind out of Face's sails. What could he say to that? “I didn't... I didn't think you were. I didn't think you were into that.”

“Into what? Guys?”

“Guys, yeah. Or sex. In general. I just didn't... I... Look, I know what happened to you in Iraq, okay? I know what they did to you. Shit like that messes you up, I just thought...”

“You just thought that, unlike... oh, I don't know, let's say _you_ , there's no way _I_ could heal from messed up shit that happened to me?” Now Murdock was looking pissed, drawing himself up indignantly.

“Dude.” Face just looked at him helplessly. “You're not healed. You're _crazy_. We've broken you out of, like, four separate mental hospitals and had to get you through all types of withdrawal from the shit they put you on when you're in there. You still get flashbacks and trapped in your head and nightmares and hallucinations and all kinds of shit. You _know_ you're not right, man.”

That seemed to hit home. Murdock narrowed his eyes and folded his lips up, going very still. The angles of his body seemed suddenly dangerous, knife-like. You'd cut yourself if you tried to touch him.

“Little too crazy for your blood, Faceman?” His voice was the quiet singsong he lapsed into before he went on the attack. It was normally your last warning, but to Face he didn't sound angry, he just sounded desperately vulnerable.

“No,” Face said. “That's not it, Murdock. You know that's not it. I just didn't want you to get hurt anymore, okay? That's the last thing I want.”

“I have sex,” Murdock said abruptly. “Not... not as often as you, obviously. But I do. Sometimes. Mostly with guys.”

“Oh. Okay.” Face didn't know quite what to say to that.

“I'm just saying. You said you didn't know if I was into that. So I'm saying: I'm into that.” Murdock made an impatient gesture. “It's been over ten years, you know? I'm never going to get all of myself back, but that seemed like something I could have.”

“It's just... before...” Face tried to think back. “When we were in the office. You didn't... you didn't seem okay. You didn't seem okay with me touching you. You seemed like you were freaking out.”

“I don't like being used so someone else can get their rocks off,” Murdock said quietly and Face didn't need to see his eyes to know what would be there. “I don't like being the entertainment. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Face said. Because he did, God help them both.

There was silence again. Less tense this time, but still filled with things that Face hadn't wanted to ever think about. He watched Murdock out the corner of his eye and then made himself look properly. They were past that bullshit now. Murdock met his eyes for a long moment then turned away, smiling slightly.

Murdock picked at his fingers restlessly, worried a cuticle with his teeth. “Do you think Hannibal and BA know where we are?”

“I didn't call them.” Face looked down at his own manicured hands. Felt his own reckless arrogance like a physical pain. “I should have called when you didn't show up at the rendezvous, but I didn't. We've been out of contact for long enough that they'll know something is up by now. They'll come looking for us.”

Murdock nodded slowly. “They better get here before that asshole comes back, Face. I'm not going to able to do what he wants and I'll kill him if he tries touching me again.”

His voice was completely calm and Face felt a spike of fear at the certainty in it. He'd known this really, known it even before he'd reached back to grab Murdock's arm, begging him not to say anything. Begging him not to say no. He'd known Murdock didn't have whatever it was that had allowed Face to press ahead, even thinking that Murdock was dying everywhere he laid his hands on him. Murdock didn't have that in him and, even now, Face couldn't be sorry for that. Couldn't wish for Murdock to be other than he was.

“For me...” Face had to say it and forced himself to look Murdock in the eye. “It wouldn't be rape, if that's what's stopping you. I mean. For me, it wouldn't be rape.”

“Face.” Murdock looked at him so gently that Face had to turn away. “Yes, it would.”

There really wasn't anything he could say to that so Face just focussed on the perfect edges of his fingernails until they began to blur, until he felt something ease up a notch or two in his chest. Then he thought about what Murdock had actually said, what else he'd said.

“Touches you _again_?”

“Yeah,” Murdock said on an exhale. “Just chickenshit stuff. Like playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with Baptist girls. I was really fucking glad when you showed up though, Face.” He glanced across at Face through his eyelashes. “Not that you got caught, just that you were there. I knew whatever he had planned would be worse if I was by myself than with you there. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, man.” Face waved that off. “I'm really fucking glad I was there too. So he didn't...?”

Murdock snorted. “Only thing he got off was my jacket. That's still more than he's ever going to get to do again though, you know? _Damn_ , I really hope Bosco gets to meet him. I _really_ do.”

Face nodded. If he'd been holding a beer he would have clinked his bottle against Murdock's. Amen, brother.

“All the girls at my high school were Catholic,” Face ventured into the quiet.

Murdock grinned. “Well, that explains everything.”

Face grinned too and leaned his head back against the wall. It really kind of did.

They just sat there quietly side by side, Face listened to their breathing and watched Murdock's fidgeting hands for a while before reaching over to capture one. Murdock jumped and blinked at Face as if he'd forgotten that he was still there and couldn't imagine what Face would want with his hand.

“You know, you could have said something,” Face said, holding Murdock's hand up and examining it. Murdock's hands were smaller than his, narrower, but strong and with calluses in most of the same places. He'd seen them steady on triggers, on airplane controls, on his guitar, and he'd wondered how they would feel on his body. Whether they would be steady then. The hand he was holding had an angry bruise forming where he had bitten himself bloody until Face had replaced Murdock's hand with his own.

Murdock was watching Face cautiously. “About what?”

“About this.” Face gestured, moving Murdock's hand around. “About you and me. I know I never said anything, but you could have.”

“Yeah,” Murdock said and he sounded so tired all of a sudden. “Of course I could.”

Face frowned at that, at the defeat in his voice and the way his eyes slid away from Face's. At what he wasn't saying. Face looked down at his hand cradled around Murdock's, at where Murdock had torn himself open to keep from being heard. To keep Face from hearing what was inside of Murdock all this time. He rubbed his thumb gently across that wound and Murdock's eyes sharpened.

“You could have,” Face repeated.

“Sure,” Murdock looked down at Face's thumb covering what would soon be just another scar.

“You know that you're hot as all Hell, right?” Face said quietly. “Like... _gorgeous_.”

Murdock's eyes flicked back up to Face's, startled. “Um. Okaaay. Thanks?”

“ _Gorgeous_. And really fucking smart, like, crazy-smart. And crazy-crazy too but in a good way. And you get this smile and this look in your eyes sometimes and I just want to know what you're thinking. I _always_ want to know what you're thinking.”

Murdock had gone red and was staring at Face with a kind of transfixed horror. “You're not going to chase after me next time I go to the airport are you?”

Face moved closer, going up onto his knees in front of Murdock. Murdock watched him warily. “I want to kiss you again,” Face said, making his voice low and husky. “Are you going to let me?”

Murdock's eyes ticked across his face, looking for the con maybe. “Will it make you shut up and stop listing things you love about me?”

“Yes it will.”

“Thank you, Buddha.” Murdock dropped his gaze to Face's mouth and he licked at his split lip distractedly. “Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

Not exactly the wild enthusiasm Face had been hoping for, but he could work on that. He pushed his fingers through the tangles of Murdock's hair, crouching over him, practically in his lap, which wasn't the most dignified position for a guy his size but it seemed to work. Murdock looked up at him with only a thin corona of green around the deep dark of his pupils and Face cupped his hands around Murdock's face, bringing him to his lips like he was taking water.

It was different this time. It was better. When Face licked Murdock's mouth open, Murdock made the same breathless sound he had when Face first entered him and it was so much more beautiful this time now that Face knew what it meant.

Face couldn't stop himself from touching Murdock. The press and slide of their mouths against each other, of course, but also running his fingers along the planes of Murdock's face, learning him like this now that he knew he could, now that he knew he was allowed.

Murdock was calm beneath him, not passive but open and humming with approval at everything Face did. His hands slid under Face's shirt and spanned across Face's back, against his ribcage like he was testing how well they fit together, testing the reality of this. Beneath Face's fingertips he was taking shape: the fine lines of bone, the roughness of stubble, the corner of his mouth that curled up at Face's touch. He moaned when Face's blunt nails found that place on the back of his neck where Face had bitten him earlier.

Those strong and steady hands flexed against Face's back, pulled at him insistently, pulled at him until he really was sitting on top of Murdock. It wasn't a bad place to be. Murdock seemed to agree with that sentiment, biting and murmuring happily against Face's mouth, so much more vocal and responsive than he had been before and Face was beginning to realise just how much he had held himself back. How much more there was to learn.

Murdock pulled his head back suddenly, looking concerned. “Is that...?”

Face just watched his mouth move for a long second before realising that he could hear automatic weapons firing outside. That realisation didn't really seem all that important at this particular moment. “Hannibal and BA? Yep. That's our rescue.”

He reeled Murdock in again, Murdock resisting only slightly. “Shouldn't we...?”

“No.” Face licked the roof of Murdock's mouth. “They sound like they've got it under control.”

Murdock laughed breathlessly against his mouth and didn't argue. At least a full pound of Semtex exploded close enough and hard enough to shake the container and knock them apart briefly. Murdock's eyes were huge and full of awe. “It sounds like the end of the world out there.”

Face hummed in agreement and bit Murdock's lower lip to make him stop talking. Talking was entirely overrated. Besides, Face had a much better idea of what they should be doing while the world ended around them.


End file.
